CHAPTER 8

JEFF missed his dad. He knew his little brother did, too. They’d lost him two and a half months ago, when he had sacrificed himself to the aliens so they could escape. Not a day passed that Jeff didn’t wonder if his dad would have been proud of him. The question ate at him every night when he lay in bed.

Jeff rolled over to study his younger brother’s profile in the adjacent bed. The boy tossed and turned, letting out whimpers. He, too, suffered from nightmares. And why wouldn’t he? The monsters were everywhere. The planet had transformed into their horrible playground.

Rolling over, Jeff propped up his head with a palm. Things weren’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be playing outside with their friends, going camping in the mountains. But instead, they were hiding inside one.

Closing his eyes, he thought of the only thing that made him feel better. His kills. Fifteen Spiders and three Sentinels. That’s how many of the aliens he’d eliminated since the invasion. The thought made him feel a bit better, and he began to relax. In a few hours he would be training again with Bouma and Kiel. They’d already helped him improve his aim. Next they were going to teach him how to navigate. With modern communications knocked out, learning how to orienteer was more important than ever.

Jeff had never used a map before, and he’d only seen a compass once. His grandpa had showed him and David one years ago, claiming that it could guide someone when they were lost. But Jeff didn’t believe him at the time. How could a piece of metal that didn’t even talk give you directions?

He was excited to find out. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but he enjoyed learning. At times he even missed school. But mostly he missed his friends.

“Jeff,” a soft voice said.

He looked over and saw the outline of David’s body in the darkness. His brother sat up and was looking at him.

“What’s wrong?” Jeff whispered. He didn’t want to wake Kiel or Bouma, who were camped out on the floor between them.

“I can’t sleep,” David said. He swung his legs over the bed and put his feet on the floor. “Can I come over there?”

“No, get back in bed,” Jeff hissed.

One of the blankets moved and Bouma let out a groan before he turned onto his side.

David stood and jumped over the two men, first one, then the other. “I keep having nightmares.” He climbed into bed next to Jeff, pushing him softly.

“Damn it, David. You’re six years old.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He paused and then said, “I really miss Dad.”

Jeff clenched his jaw. “I do too, bud.”

“Do you think he’s somewhere safe?”

“I think he’s with Mom.”

“You mean our real mom, right?”

“Yes, David.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”


The next morning Jeff strolled into an empty Biome 1, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and listening to the tranquil sound of the irrigation system as it watered the crops. The chamber, humid and clammy, reminded him of the NTC botanical center that Paula, their stepmom, had taken them to for a birthday party a few years ago.

Strolling to the edge of the platform, he reached out and let the mist rain down on him. The cool water felt good on his skin, and for a second Jeff felt completely relaxed.

When the poles finally clicked off, he jumped off the metal platform onto the moist dirt. His shoes sank in with a squishy plop. He wove through a row of tangled cucumber vines snaking across the soggy topsoil.

“’Sup, squirt,” came a voice from behind him.

Jeff frowned. He didn’t like being called “squirt,” especially by a man not much taller than him. Spinning, he glared at Kiel. The marine stood on the platform above him. Jeff laughed.

“What?” Kiel asked.

“You look . . .” Jeff paused and shook his head.

“What, kid?”

“You look taller.”

“Ah, so you’re a funny guy now?”

Chuckling, Jeff sidestepped a melon and continued down the path. “Where’s Bouma?”

“He’s eating breakfast with his girlfriend,” Kiel snickered.

“Holly’s his girlfriend?” Jeff asked.

“You blind, kid?”

“No,” Jeff laughed. “I just really don’t care.”

“In five years you might.”

“What’s in five years?”

Kiel stepped off the platform, stabbing one of his crutches into the mud. He grinned. “Never mind.”

Before Jeff could reply he heard footsteps coming from the corridor.

“That was quick,” Kiel shouted.

Jeff turned, cautious not to step on any plants. The glass doors hissed open and Corporal Bouma marched through, his mouth still filled with food.

“Morning,” he said. His voice sounded different. Chipper.

“What are you so happy about?” Kiel asked.

Bouma shook his head and gulped down the last bit of breakfast. “Nothing.”

“Did you and Holly”—Kiel paused and looked toward Jeff before continuing—“hook up last night?”

“Knock it off,” Bouma said. “She’s none of your business.”

“Sorry,” Kiel replied. He continued down the dirt trail behind Jeff, his crutches making noises as they sank into the saturated ground.

“You excited to learn about navigation, Jeff?” Bouma shouted after them, in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

“Yeah. But I’m more excited to go back outside. I want to kill more of ’em.”

“I’m sure we’ll get a chance eventually,” Kiel said coldly. “We can’t live in here forever.”

“I know. That’s what I told David,” Jeff said.

The three suddenly grew quiet. Jeff knew the time would come when they had to leave the Biosphere. When their supplies would run out or the facility would be compromised. But he wasn’t scared to leave. He was scared to stay.

Staying meant he didn’t get to fight—staying meant he had to sit and wait.

Marines didn’t sit around. They fought.

To the end.

Jeff grabbed his dad’s hunting rifle and loaded a round. Then he placed the butt firmly against his upper chest, looked down the barrel, took a deep breath, and fired a bull’s-eye.

“Wow. Nice shot, kid,” Kiel said. He dropped his crutches and hobbled over to Jeff’s side, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder. With a chuckle he said, “You’re going to be a marine in no time.”


Emanuel swiveled the display in front of him and squinted. He’d left his glasses on the counter. “Well I’ll be damned,” he whispered.

The nanobots had evolved during the night, ballooning in size and developing small tentacles around the edges. They looked almost—

That can’t be, Emanuel thought. They can’t be alive. Can they?

Was he looking at a biologically modified alien technology?

“Alexia, take a look at this,” he shouted, taking a step back from the monitor. He swiped the display and transferred the data to her mainframe.

Alexia’s avatar shot up over the AI interface. “Doctor, scans reveal the nanobots are in fact biological in nature. I’ve seen similar technology in the past. After you discovered the first traces of the nanotechnology, I ran some queries through my database and found a secret division within NTC. They were working on genetically modified nanotechnology that would merge with human cells. Imagine a white blood cell with superpowers. That’s what they were aiming for,” she said. “These nanobots are far more advanced. The tentacle strands are replicating.”

“But why?” Emanuel asked.

“Inconclusive,” Alexia replied.

“Guess.”

The AI’s blue face faded away, her voice transferring back to the speakers.

“I don’t make guesses, Doctor. But the most likely explanation would be that the alien technology is evolving to take over Lieutenant Smith’s system.”

Emanuel clenched his jaw. If it was spreading through Smith, could it be contagious?

“We should wait for Sophie. I want her to see this. Can you tell her we need her?”

The PA system blared and Alexia said, “Doctor Winston to the medical ward.”

A few moments later Sophie walked into the room. She looked at Smith before making her way to the wall of monitors in the corner.

“Is that what I think it is?” she inquired.

Emanuel nodded. “The nanotechnology has evolved. It’s duplicating and spreading through Smith’s system.”

“Do we know why?” Sophie asked.

“No, Doctor,” Alexia replied. “Preliminary data shows the nanobots may be trying to take over her system.”

“But why?”

“We don’t know,” Emanuel said.

Sophie reached for another vial of the marine’s blood. Strapping on a pair of gloves, she then grabbed a transfer pipette and added a sample to a new tray. She pressed her eye against the electron microscope and gasped.

“Alexia, bring this up on the display,” Sophie ordered. She backed away from the machine and waited next to the monitor. It appeared a few seconds later.

Emanuel glanced over her shoulder and watched her zoom in on the small group of bots. Like the others, they had blossomed into popcorn kernels, with arms snaking out in all directions. Each tentacle seemed to carry a miniature nanoparticle at the end of it, just like the ones Emanuel had discovered inside the Spider’s bloodstream.

“Do you see those?” She pointed at them and then turned.

Anxiety warmed Emanuel’s insides, building in the pit of his stomach and working itself up into his chest. He felt it in his heart; with every pump, his veins tingled. If this was an infection, and if it was contagious, then humanity was truly screwed.

“Alexia, I’d like you to run another scan and see if you can find anything similar in your database.”

“Working.” A few minutes later she emerged over the AI interface. “Scans reveal this is a unique form of bacteria. After an exhaustive review of my files, I have concluded that it is not native to Earth. This is completely Organic.”

“But you are certain it is a bacterium?” Sophie asked.

Emanuel glanced over at her. She was having another moment of clarity. Aside from her wrinkled clothes and the deep bags under her eyes, she looked better than she had the day before.

“Yes, Doctor. The organism is a bacterium. It shares properties with bacteria found on Earth, but it is also different from anything in my database, which leads me to conclude it is Organic in nature.”

Sophie rubbed her temples. “But . . . how? And what does it mean?”

“I do have a theory,” Alexia replied, “but I need more time.”

“We don’t have time,” Emanuel said. “Give us your best guess.”

“I told you, Doctor, I don’t guess.”

“Sure you do,” Sophie replied. “That’s what a theory is. Right? A guess with facts behind it. So why don’t you give us your best guess with whatever data you haven’t shared with us.”

“Very well.” Alexia’s image flickered and her voice transferred to the speakers. “We know the nanobots hold an electrical charge. When they are stimulated they react as if they are trying to connect to something.”

“To what?” Emanuel asked.

“I believe they are trying to connect to the surge,” Alexia replied.

Emanuel and Sophie exchanged worried looks.

“Okay . . . That makes sense, I suppose,” Emanuel said. “But that still doesn’t explain the bacteria.”

Sophie nodded. “Yes, it does, actually.”

Raising a brow, Emanuel rubbed his eyes. “Explain it to me then.”

“If the RVM is preventing the nanobots from connecting to the surge, then perhaps that’s why the nanobots have developed bacteria strands. It’s quite genius, really, if you think about it. The bacteria allow the nanobots to duplicate and take over the host’s system.”

“Doctor Winston’s idea is logical,” Alexia replied. “Fortunately, this appears to be a very slow process.”

“If this is an infection, and it’s taking over Smith’s body, then we need to try to find a way to stop it.” Sophie looked at the medicine cabinet.

“Should we be taking precautions? Should we quarantine her?” Emanuel asked. “What if it’s contagious?”

Sophie swung open the door to the medical supply closet. “We’ve already been exposed. And if we haven’t been infected yet, then chances are we’ll be fine.” She raised a bottle under the light and then put it back inside and dug some more.

Emanuel wasn’t convinced, but didn’t have the energy to argue. Instead he walked across the room to where she was digging through the cabinet. “What are you looking for?”

“Antibiotics. If this bacterium shares similarities with bacteria here on Earth then maybe we can kill it with penicillin, quinolones, or something else.”

“But what about the nanotechnology?” Emanuel asked. “Medicine won’t have any effect on the bots.”

“I have another idea for that,” Sophie replied.

He looked at her, unsure if he could trust her in her current state. She’d been unstable since she’d returned from Colorado Springs. But he really had no other choice. He had to trust the woman he loved. He had to believe that woman still existed inside the shell she’d become.

“Okay,” he finally said. “What do you have in mind?”

Sophie gestured toward the door. “Get the RVAMP and bring it in here. I want to see if a small, controlled blast will kill the nanobots.”

Emanuel grinned. “I like where your head’s at.”

She smiled, and then pulled several supplies from the cabinet before slamming the doors shut and heading to Smith’s bedside.

Emanuel joined her there. “Think she’s really sleeping this time?”

Together they peered down at the marine, watching her eyelids flutter.

“Yeah, she’s out,” Sophie replied. She prepared a bag of liquid quinolone and then attached it to the marine’s saline drip. “But I really wish I knew what she was dreaming about.”


Lieutenant Smith heard the voices, but she couldn’t move. A powerful force had taken control of her, paralyzing her body. The sensation felt stronger than any she’d experienced before. She could feel it moving through her veins. As though another life force had possessed her.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember much of anything. She didn’t know her name or where she was born, or even her age. There were a few things she could recall: the metal rods, the people above and below her, the feeling of a shared consciousness, and the black ships with their cargo of thousands of glowing orbs.

As she lay there she began to remember other things, too. The shifting aliens. The faceless demons that had shown her things. The past. Maybe the future. Yet she felt no fear. The memories sparked no emotion at all.

The sound of voices distracted her. Who were they? She’d heard the names Sophie and Emanuel. There was some Alexia, too, but she sounded distant, robotic. Not human.

She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids were too heavy.

“Smith’s infection should respond to these antibiotics within a couple of hours,” a female voice said.

“Alexia, keep an eye on her,” a male voice said.

“Yes, Doctor,” the robotic voice replied.

Was she Smith? If so, what was she infected with? She struggled, fighting desperately to open her eyes.

The voices faded, replaced by the sound of footsteps. Then the metallic click of a locking door, followed by the sensation of an even deeper darkness as the lights clicked off.

She was alone.

A sudden current of electricity jolted her. Her veins burned. Within seconds the fire had spread through her entire body. The agony was overwhelming.

But still she felt no fear. Only pain.

Her eyes snapped open and adjusted to the darkness. She was in a small medical ward, with a pair of what looked like cryo chambers, a wall lined with computer monitors, and an AI console. She concentrated on the device. She tried to move her eyes, to see what else was in the room, but she couldn’t control her focus. Whatever had possessed her had fixated on the AI interface.

Pain erupted inside her skull, like a bomb had exploded behind her eyes. The current surged through her body, and she slowly slipped into darkness. Inside her brain, billions of tiny alien nanobots had finally taken control.